


not all broken things can be fixed

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Gen, I guess???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:32:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s true that the edges of his person grew rougher that day, when what had once been a powerful pack was reduced to an alpha with power thrust upon her far too young, and a boy with secrets that he didn’t want to tend. </p><p>But he’s still more than that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not all broken things can be fixed

**Author's Note:**

> i got tired of watching netflix so i wrote a drabble while listening to spring awakening
> 
> operating on too little sleep and way too much caffeine, and this isn't beta read, but whatevs man

He's more than a puzzle left lying out on a table, waiting for someone to come along and fuck with the pieces, as if they have any clue what he’s supposed to be. Those blueprints of his life were lost a long time ago, when a hunter decided to abandon her code and set fire to his family, because while the human world still had rapists running free and murderers pulling triggers, the crime of them existing was so extreme they deserved swift punishment.

It’s true that the edges of his person grew rougher that day, when what had once been a powerful pack was reduced to an alpha with power thrust upon her far too young, and a boy with secrets that he didn’t want to tend. 

But he’s still more than that.

It’s hard to remember, though, what more is, when people are so intent on looking at him only as the victim of that fire. There is never more when he walks into a room and it goes silent, because everyone in that fucking town remembers how he had screamed like the child he had just told his mother he wasn’t.

“I’m almost an adult now,” he had said, spitting the words at her in a way that he never had before, tired of her endless questioning about his long nights and the strange scent on his skin. “I can take care of myself.”

He couldn’t, though.

He was just as fragile as she had warned him, and he realizes that now when he looks in the mirror and only sees a mockery of what he could have been. He sees what he knows the rest of them do, the way that there are pieces of him gone, left behind when he fled Beacon Hills with a sister that kept quiet for too long, trapped in her grief while he plastered himself against the passenger door of her car and wondered if it was at all possible for him to throw himself out onto the road, putting an end to this shit storm that was his life. 

Still, he resents them for trying to fix him. Their hands are too clumsy and they don’t know him well enough to try and put the pieces back together. They are constructing their idea of what Derek Hale should be, but he knows better than all of them what he was meant to be.

And he also knows that it won’t happen.

He’s fine with that, though.

Maybe he’s a little broken. 

But he’s too tired to try and fix himself, content to just be. Not whole, but why does it matter? 

He can still function, even if he’s not as polished as they’d like.


End file.
